


Survival Skills

by TheMarvelousMadMadamMim



Series: Softly and Tenderly, We Begin (Hackle Summer Trope Challenge) [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, We're going on a field trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim/pseuds/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim
Summary: Dimity Drill takes the girls on a pathfinding trip, and a reluctant Hecate Hardbroom tags along. When they're forced to stay in the woods overnight, some interesting revelations come to light.





	1. Predicted

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Season Two (with some very mild spoilers for S2).

The trip was, in Hecate Hardbroom's completely unbiased opinion, destined to be an unmitigated disaster. This was due to two factors: it was organized by Dimity Drill, and it involved Mildred Hubble.

“You’re being a tad dramatic, Hecate,” Ada had chided her, dismisisng her protests with a slight wave of her hand.

“To say that this trip holds no educational value whatsoever is simply a _fact_ ,” Hecate rebutted, keeping the edge from her tone. Had it been anyone but Ada, she certainly would be spitting venom right now. Instead, she’d calmly appeared in Miss Cackle’s office with a full speech prepared on the uselessness of this field trip—especially in light of the fact that the girls had several important exams at the end of the week and needed to be studying as much as possible.

Ada seemed not to hear her, “A day trip to Glowworm Grove is a chance for the girls to see valuable flora, up close and personal—”

“That’s why we have _books_ , Ada,” Hecate’s hand flew up, producing a potions textbook from thin air, pages open to prove her point. “Books with _pictures_.”

“It doesn’t compare to the real thing,” Ada shook her head. Then, with a winning smile, she added, “Especially when they’ll have you as their guide.”

“Me?!” Hecate really did try not to shriek, really, she did.

Ada’s mouth twisted in amusement, her tone infused with syrupy warmth, “Oh, dearest, you didn’t think I’d let Dimity take them on her own, did you?”

In truth, they both knew that if Ada hadn’t drafted her into this, Hecate would have volunteered to go, for the exact same reasons—if you were going to let an entire section of your students wander the wild, you needed to make sure there was someone powerful enough to protect them.

The potions mistress ducked her head, accepting the unspoken command. Not for the first time, Ada felt a tug on her heart at the small gesture of devotion.

“Besides,” she took a step closer, causing Hecate to look back up with those eyes that could drown a person, if they weren’t careful. “Dimity will need a chaperone as much as the girls.”

Now the younger witch smiled in silent agreement, knowing full well that Ada only said that to make her smile and feeling that familiar flutter of _belonging_ that came from Ada’s kindness. Dimity Drill was more than capable of handling a group of students, they both knew that—but Ada had known that the moment called for lightness, something to sweep away the previous tension.

“It’s one afternoon,” Ada kept her voice low and gentle. “You can even assign extra homework to make up for the missed classes.”

There was Ada in her truest form—sensing Hecate’s concerns before she even voiced them, and finding a solution. Giving validation for her worries, no matter how silly they seemed.

Hecate pretended to consider the idea, “I suppose a five thousand word essay on the various historical uses of henbane could almost make up for a missed lecture.”

“Almost,” Ada agreed.

With another slight smile, Hecate added, “You do know that if this goes haywire—as it inevitably shall, might I say—I will never let you forget this, right?”

This earned her a laugh from Ada Cackle. “I really wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

* * *

 

Dimity Drill rolled her eyes one last time—good idea to try and get them all out of her system before HB actually arrived. Miss Cackle had informed her of the deputy head’s inclusion on the day trip roster, and Dimity had exercised every ounce of restraint not to whine like a child at the thought of having to drag Hecate Hardbroom along.

Like putting a cat on a lead. Dimity had tried that once, with her mother’s familiar. She’d been small then, not even old enough for primary school, and that cat had become a whining lump of dead weight that refused to even move when the lead was attached. Young Dimity had resorted to dragging the poor cat through the garden, mewling and growling, until her mother found her and put a stop to it.

Perfect analogy for HB, to be honest.

As if on cue, HB appeared in a puff of smoke (a completely unnecessary touch, but with a drama queen like that, what could you expect?), expression set into a distasteful grimace that seemed to be her face’s natural form.

“Miss Drill,” she said curtly.

“HB,” the flying instructor gave a nod, knowing the nickname did no favors for the woman’s temperament.

Another light sigh of martyrdom from HB. Dimity immediately decided that the only way to get through the afternoon would be to simply imagine the woman as a petulant cat.

Dimity returned her attention to the third years assembled before her, looking like a life-sized chess set with their matching pointy hats and dark traveling cloaks. Only fourteen girls, an easy number to wrangle. With HB around, they’d all behave like lambs. Fearful lambs, but lambs nonetheless.

“Alright,” Dimity clapped her hands together, doing a quick headcount to double-check. “Today’s objective is pathfinding.”

She felt HB tense beside her. Obviously, Miss Cackle hadn’t gone over the finer details of this day trip with her deputy. Dimity had recently read a biography of a witch who’d been stripped of her powers and abandoned in the mountains by a vengeful ex-coven member, and who’d been forced to survive on her wits and non-magical skills alone. Given all the upheaval surrounding the academy these past few years, she’d decided that perhaps the girls could use a little nudge in remembering that they had more abilities beyond what magic gave. An idea that Hardbroom would faint over, to be sure, but Dimity didn’t really care. A large part of their job was to provide the best education possible to their girls, to send them out into the world fully equipped for whatever may happen, and this could be a valuable, life-saving lesson.

“I will take you out to a location, and you will be tasked with guiding us back.” Dimity gave a small smile at the smug looks on the girls’ faces (they really thought she’d make this easy on them!).

HB muttered under her breath, something about an utter waste of time. Dimity just imagined grumpy cats and smiled.

“Off we go!” Dimity declared, motioning grandly towards the front gate.

HB gave a flutter of her fingers, and her broom appeared in her hand.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Dimity held out her hand, vanishing HB’s broom away again—an action which earned her a sputtering growl of annoyance and mild concern. “No brooms, milady darkness. We’re hiking.”

“H-huh-hi-hiking?” HB’s impressive eyebrows reached new heights as she stuttered and sputtered again. Had it been anyone else, Dimity might have thought she was suffering an aneurysm. Instead, she rolled her eyes heavenwards at the woman’s melodramatic antics.

_Think cats, think cats, think funny and bitchy little murder machines with cute little toe beans…what do HB’s toes look like?_

That last thought was random enough to jolt Dimity back into reality. With a longsuffering smile, she spoke loud enough to be heard by the girls, most of whom had also groaned at the hiking decree, “Yes, Miss Hardbroom, hiking. Today, the girls will not be allowed to use magic of any kind.”

Oh my giddy bats, they were going to have to leave HB right there, because given the sudden stiffness of her body, she’d obviously just been petrified.

“No magic?” HB barely breathed the words, as if they were the darkest curse she’d ever heard.

“It is important that the girls develop survival skills that do not rely on their powers,” Dimity kept her tone even and unaffected.

HB’s lips were pressed into such a thin line that they practically disappeared, but she didn’t argue. A rare feat, indeed.

“You should probably change your shoes,” Dimity remarked, glancing down at HB’s customary six-inch heeled boots.

“Am I allowed to do that magically?” The potions mistress intoned dryly, arching a single brow.

“Just this once, yes.” Dimity couldn’t stop the grin blooming across her face. HB wasn’t always a good sport, but she was a meticulous rule follower, and that was playing into Dimity’s favor. Because even though HB objected to the rules, _of course_ she’d still follow them. Because rules.

HB’s height immediately dropped three inches, and she brushed past Dimity without a word. The slit in the back of her long skirt gave Dimity a peek at the new footwear—slightly more practical, but still with enough heel to keep her taller than everyone else.

 _Grumpy cat, stalking away._ This time, Dimity allowed herself a small chuckle. This was going to be fun.

* * *

 

Mildred Hubble had no impulse control. That was a well known fact, proven time and again. So Hecate Hardbroom experienced exactly zero surprise when the younger witch sidled up to her during the first few minutes of the hike.

“Isn’t this exciting?” She asked, already knowing HB’s response but still wanting some kind of interaction regardless.

“Terribly,” HB agreed, her tone laced with enough sarcasm to choke a horse.

Mildred looked down, suddenly unsure of what else to say. Hecate obviously suffered a slight heart murmur, most likely brought on by the hiking—because she felt a tug in her chest, and it _certainly_ couldn’t be due to the silent and awkward thing walking beside her.

“Pondweed,” she said, keeping her gaze fixed ahead, although she could feel Mildred’s face turning back to her, lighting up at the realization that HB was still speaking to her, actually choosing to continue a conversation with her. “Name six potions that require it.”

Mildred’s brow furrowed in concentration, “Ah…invisibility potion…levitation, laughter, transformation for frog and for dragon…and…”

She grew quiet, her mind obviously reeling through all the books she’d read over the past three years.

Feeling uncharacteristically generous, HB held out her hand, giving her fingers a flutter as they twisted into a tight fist.

“And shrinking potion!” Mildred understood the hint, her tone filled with unbridled delight.

“You should know that one,” HB intoned dryly. “Since you are an expert at the spell.”

She was, of course, referring to an incident in Mildred’s first year, when they were supposed to shrink themselves exactly one inch shorter, and instead Mildred had shrunk herself down to one inch.

The young girl blushed and looked down, chastised. Not for the first time, Hecate swallowed the desire to tell her a story from her first years at school—perhaps the time she had to spend six weeks re-growing her own pinky finger after a rather disastrous explosion, or the time she accidentally set her own hair on fire by leaning in too close to the cauldron (it was tight and tidy buns for her after that). But as always, she bit back the desire to be relatable and instead focused on ensuring that Mildred Hubble would keep all of her fingers and toes, without the painful learning curve.

“Beech nuts,” she redirect her focus to the trees overhead. “Can be used in what spell?”

Mildred looked up as well, eager to please, eager to prove herself. “Um….Transformation? But only if you wanted to transform into a beech tree.”

The corner of HB’s mouth hitched into the smallest of secret smiles, but Mildred still saw, and her heart surged with hope.

“We may make a decent witch out of you yet, Mildred Hubble,” HB drawled, using her customary tone when pronouncing Mildred’s name. Over the past three years, though, Mildred could have sworn that it had changed, just slightly. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she felt it had become just a touch softer.

“Black horehound,” HB extended a long finger in the direction of a plant growing a few yards away. “Used in which potion?”

Mildred was silent for several beats. Finally, she quietly admitted, her voice tinged with defeat, “I…I don’t know.”

“Because you haven’t learned the potion yet,” HB informed her, a wry smile on her lips. This was, Mildred knew, HB’s way of teasing. Odd, stilted, and somehow endearing. “Key ingredient for truth potion. Also, in the non-magical world, useful for motion sickness.”

“Maybe I should give some to Tabby,” Mildred wondered aloud. HB ducked her head to hide her smile.

Miss Drill had started a row of the Cackle’s Academy alma mater, which Mildred immediately joined with her usual gusto. Hecate rolled her eyes—here she was, having a genuine _teachable_ moment with a student, and of course Dimity Drill had to muck it up with silly voices and a chant they all knew by heart. This was a learning experience, and Hecate highly doubted that knowing the Cackle’s anthem would ever help out in a life-and-death situation.

It didn’t help that she suddenly felt as if she were a student herself again, awkwardly shuffling along as the rest of the girls sang to their heart’s delight, too fearful of letting anyone hear her sing, feeling out of place and painfully aware that her silence only made her more conspicuous.

Enid Nightshade and Maud Spellbody had bounced up beside Millie, the three girls clasping hands and swinging them in time with the song. Hecate thought of Pippa, years ago, doing the same with her. Finding each other’s hand in a crowd, in the dark, and giving small reassuring squeezes.

With a quick blink and a small shake of her head, the memories were gone. Hecate intentionally slowed her pace, slipping to the back of the group to shepherd any stragglers along.

It took her longer than it should have to realize what Dimity was doing. Of course she was distracting the girls—so that when it came time to find their way back to Cackle’s, it would be more of a challenge to remember what they passed on the way in. Let them lapse into a false sense of security, make them less prepared for what was to come—a vital component of true training, to be thrown something unexpected, to test your ability to remain calm and collected under pressure.

 _Dimity Drill, you really are a clever witch._ Hecate shook her head with a genuine smile. She contented herself with silently cataloguing flora and fauna for the rest of the hike, knowing there would be plenty for the girls to learn on the way home.

Home. Goddess, how she couldn’t wait to be home. Back in the armchair by Ada’s fireplace, pretending to be pissed as she regaled Ada with tales of the day, knowing it would make the headmistress laugh.

_Walking, Ada—she had me walking, like hoi polloi!_

That would earn her a giggle, for sure. Hecate’s cheeks warmed at the thought, her own mouth twisting into a smile. It was a rare thing, being able to make people laugh, and when she did achieve this, she often wondered of the laughs were out of pity, or simply directed _at_ her rather than her joke.

But she never felt that way when Ada laughed. Even if the blonde had a smile at her deputy’s expense, it was always with such warm affection that Hecate didn’t mind (at least not much). And when Ada laughed at her quips and asides, it was in genuine amusement. She understood Hecate’s sense of humor. She understood Hecate.

_Stop thinking about Ada. About laughing with Ada. Sitting with Ada. Sitting next to Ada. Reaching out to hold her hand…._

“And now for an old favorite of mine!” Dimity's voice interrupted Hecate’s increasingly mawkish thoughts. From her pocket, the flying instructor pulled out something small and white, bringing it up to her lips.

“A balloon?” Ethel Hallow gave an incredulous scoff. “What on earth will we do with that?”

Drill never stopped her huffing and puffing into the balloon, merely giving a quick wink as if to say, _Wait and see…._

Hecate Hardbroom felt a distinct twist of dread in her stomach. This had the particularly distasteful aura of _physical activity_ about it, which meant she would hate it immediately.

“Anyone ever play keepy-uppy?” Drill had finished blowing up the balloon and was quickly tying it off.

Mildred raised her hand in delight. “We used to play all the time in primary school!”

Of course, Mildred and her non-magical childhood would be acquainted with such a game.

“So,” Drill lightly balanced the balloon on her fingertips, as if it were held there by magic. “As its name implies, the point of the game is to keep the balloon from ever touching the ground.”

She glanced around, and halfway across the field, she spotted a tree. “We have to make it to that tree. If the balloon hits the ground, we start over.”

A few of the girls exchanged a mixture of incredulous and annoyed looks. Hubble was bouncing on the balls of her feet, and Nightshade looked game, even if she had never played before. Spellbody and HB wore similar looks of absolute terror.

Without further ado, Dimity lightly bounced the balloon upwards, before smacking it with her palm straight towards Maud Spellbody.

Maud reacted quickly, swatting the balloon away. It wobbled in the air for a few seconds before Felicity Foxglove lurched forward, saving it with a fast pop from underneath. It floated over to Jean Wand, who knocked it forward with a solid _thwap!_

And the game was on. The girls were working together (for the most part), cajoling and encouraging each other and strategizing how to keep it moving forward while staying on course for the tree.

And, to Dimity’s delight, they absolutely were not paying attention to their surroundings. Their young faces were squinting upwards in the afternoon sun, too focused on the bobbing balloon to care about directions or landmarks as they wove this way and that.

She moved quietly, backtracking to HB, who'd kept a wary distance from the fun.

“Quite a clever move, Miss Drill,” HB drawled, the words escaping from the side of her mouth, like giving compliments was something secretive and dirty.

“Y’ain’t seen the half of it yet,” Dimity couldn’t contain her glee. Her hand slipped into her robes again, reappearing with a small vial. She held it up for inspection.

“Invisibility potion?” Hecate quirked her eyebrows. In a flash, her face melted into understanding.

And. She. Smiled.

Oh my giddy bats, this was going to be a thousand times more fun than Dimity had anticipated.

“It’s some of your own brew,” the flying instructor admitted. “Which means it’s a good eight hours of coverage.”

HB hummed in approval, “I thought that looked like my handwriting.”

Dimity didn’t divulge how she’d gotten her hands on HB's personal batch of invisibility potion. Instead, she gave a winning grin, “Bottom’s up!”

With a flourish, she downed a shot of the potion and handed it to HB, who did the same. It only took a few seconds to take effect.

“Now what?” Hecate whispered, fully aware that even though they were invisible, they were still audible.

Close beside her, she felt a ripple of magic. Then Dimity spoke at full volume, “We’re now in the cone of silence.”

Hecate rolled her eyes. “I really wish you wouldn’t rename spells after pop culture references.”

“I’m actually surprised you knew that was a pop culture reference.”

“I am a witch, not a hermit.”

“Right.” Dimity quickly changed subjects, before HB got her feathers ruffled and went back to her usual sour self. “So the plan is to follow the girls at a distance, make sure they don’t actually kill themselves or each other, and let them find their own way home.”

Despite not being able to see her, Dimity could sense HB's nod of approval. They lapsed into a comfortable silence. That was one of Hecate’s favorite things about Dimity—she didn’t have that compulsive need to fill every second with words.

It was several minutes before the girls reached the tree, giving cheers of delight. That’s when they realized that HB and Miss Drill were no longer with them.

“They can’t have gone far,” Ethel Hallow pronounced, in the usual haughty air that she assumed when covering her doubt or fear. “They couldn’t just abandon us out here.”

“Right.” Mildred Hubble nodded in agreement, looking around the meadow. Her hands were absentmindedly fiddling with her ends of her trademark braids—a sure sign that she was nervous, Hecate knew.

“I think it’s part of the test,” Maud Spellbody spoke up.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ethel spat. “You can’t take a test without an adjudicator. How will they know we’ve passed?”

“When we arrive back at the Academy?” Mildred guessed. “If the objective is to find our way back…it would make sense that finding our way back is how we pass.”

Ethel couldn’t argue with that logic. However, it didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes.

“This will be easy,” Felicity piped up, giving a tight, nervous smile. “I mean, we just go back the way we came.”

She turned around, looking at the tree line. “Which was…that way?”

“I think it’s slightly to the left,” Enid Nightshade pointed in another direction. “We didn’t reach the tree in a straight line, so…”

“Look,” Mildred pointed to the grass beneath their feet. “There’s so many of us, we crushed down the grass during our game. We just follow the grass prints back to the treeline.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement, and the girls moved forward, following the meandering pattern in the grass. 

* * *

From their invisible viewpoint, Hecate watched with little enthusiasm. She quietly intoned to Dimity, “I don’t think this is particularly much of a challenge.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” came the smug response. “While we were hiking, I had Mr. Rowan-Webb come along behind us and change things around. The trail we took doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Oh.” HB’s tone was filled with both surprise and slightest touch of admiration. Dimity’s chest filled with pride—it took a lot to impress the resident goth queen.

“C’mon then,” Dimity started moving. “We can’t let them get too far ahead—plus, we definitely don’t want to miss their reactions when they realize things are all turned around.”

HB made a noise that could be interpreted as agreement. They bumped into each other—the downside to both being invisible—murmured quick apologies and trudged onward. By the time they reached the treeline, the girls had begun to notice Mr. Rowan-Webb’s landscaping changes.

“Wait.” Enid’s voice filled with dread. “This doesn’t look right.”

“But it has to be right,” Felicity insisted. “Our tracks lead this way.”

“Right into a huge fallen tree,” Enid pointed to the tree in question. “That wasn’t there before. I would definitely remember a forty foot log.”

“Maybe you’re not as perceptive as you think,” Ethel sniffed.

“No, I know it wasn’t here before, either,” Maud backed up her best friend. “Does anyone else remember this being here?”

There was a round of head shaking from the others.

Millie frowned, “So…either we’re somehow turned around…or the path has been changed.”

“Do you really think Drill’s crafty enough to do something like that?” Another student, Bella Blackwood, piped up.

Hecate ducked her head at the quip, suppressing a smirk at Dimity’s “Oy!” in response.

“HB is,” Mildred spoke up, her young face lighting up. “And she was at the back of the group, towards the end—maybe she was changing things around, as we were walking!”

“Sounds like a total HB move,” Ethel agreed, and something in her tone sent a wave of irritation down Hecate’s spine. Why was she always the naturally-assumed culprit, whenever the students faced a difficult task?

“So it’s simple,” Felicity stepped forward, holding out her hands. “We just cast a disillusionment spell.”

“Wait!” Millie stopped her. “No magic, remember?”

Mildred Hubble, not only remembering the rules, but actively following them. Hecate Hardbroom’s heart suffered another palpitation.

Ethel was rolling her eyes again. “We’re witches, Mildred. We _are_ magic. It’s not like we’re casting a transfer spell and popping right back to the Academy.”

“Ethel’s right,” Felicity chimed in. “We can still walk the whole way there—and we’ll still technically have to find our way back along the path. That’s still pathfinding.”

“No magic means no magic,” Maud set her hands on her hips. “Besides, if HB did cast this illusion, what makes you think she wouldn’t safeguard it so that we couldn’t just undo it with a simple spell?”

Several girls nodded in agreement. Hecate’s mouth twitched into a smile. Beside her, Dimity admitted, “A disillusionment charm wouldn’t work anyways. Ol’ Algie actually moved those trees and called up other plants with growing spells. It’s all real.”

Hecate Hardbroom made a silent decision never to truly get on Dimity Drill’s bad side. The woman may play at being a light-headed jock, but she had a devious streak and a mind like a steel trap.

Despite the debate, Ethel Hallow still tried to cast a disillusionment spell. And true to Drill’s prediction, nothing happened.

“Told you it wouldn’t work,” Millie said quietly. Ethel merely sneered in response.

“So…how do we get back?” Felicity asked, her gaze darting nervously around the group. “I mean, if everything’s changed, we don’t even have familiar landmarks to go by.”

“Don’t worry,” Millie’s tone was as chipper as her smile. “I used to go camping with my mum all the time. She taught me how to navigate in the woods.”

“Non-magical people are so weird,” Ethel decreed.

“But certainly more useful,” Enid shot back, giving her a dark look which thankfully shut her up for a few minutes. Then she turned her attention back to her best friend, “Alright, Millie, how do we do this?”

Mildred took a few minutes to explain the basics of keeping track of cardinal directions, which was easy enough for the girls.

Felicity squinted up at the sky—it was already late afternoon and sunset wouldn’t be too far away. “So the meadow and the sun are in the west, which means Cackle’s is…east? Southeast?”

“Somewhere like that,” Millie admitted, her enthusiasm tamping down just a notch. Knowing a general direction was a good start, but was it enough to get them home?

“We need to start moving,” Lucinda Eagle-Wing, one of the other students, spoke up. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Don’t worry,” Millie put on her bravest, brightest face. “We’ll definitely be home before dark.”

That, of course, was a lie.


	2. Proven

Really, Hecate thought, life had become entirely too predictable. Because it had been Mildred Hubble saying it, the promise to be home before dark was as good as any jinx that could have ever been uttered.

_Bats and boils, Ada, I told you this would happen._

It had been two hours of tromping through the forest after the girls, who’d gone from cautiously hopeful to downright despaired over the last hour. They’d found no familiar landmarks, and the thick trees made darkness come sooner—which meant they would soon lose the sun as a directional point of reference.

“We should stop for the night,” Millie suggested.

“And do what? Sleep on the ground, like animals?” Ethel’s face was awash with horror. She gave a vehement shake of her head, “Absolutely not. We can’t be far from Cackle’s by now—we should carry on.”

A few other girls voiced their agreement.

“But what if we get turned around in the dark?” Mildred shot back. “We could end up being even more lost than we already are.”

“We’re not really lost, are we?” Felicity’s voice quavered with fear.

“Well we certainly aren’t found, are we?” Enid sniped, instantly regretting her tone as Felicity’s face fell. She sidled up to the girl and gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “It’ll be just fine, I promise.”

Just then, Enid’s stomach gave a growl of protest, loud enough to interrupt the debate.

“We need to search for food,” Mildred announced. “And build a fire.”

“That will waste valuable time—time we could be using to get back to Cackle’s,” Ethel crossed her arms over her chest.

With a sigh, Jean Wand opened her hands in a gesture of supplication, “Ethel, we’re not making it back to the Academy tonight. Mildred’s right—trying to continue in the dark could just get us even more lost. It’s better to use what little daylight we have left to build a fire and gather some provisions for the night.”

“And how will we make a fire, exactly?” Ethel challenged. “No magic, remember?”

“I know how to do it,” Mildred piped up. “Well…at least in theory.”

“Great,” Ethel’s eyes rolled heavenward again. “All that’s between us and engulfing darkness is the worst witch.”

“Well this worst witch is your best chance of making it back to Cackle’s,” Enid shot back. “So if I were you, I’d do less grumbling and more helping, _Miss_ Hallow.”

This earned Enid a glare, but Ethel did keep her mouth shut. Maud, Mildred, and Felicity set to making a fire, while the rest began scouring the nearby area for berries and nuts.

Dimity felt something brush up against her—HB, accidentally too close yet again.

“Are we really going to let the girls stay here, overnight?” HB’s voice was lined with careful concern.

“I don’t see any other choice,” Dimity admitted.

“Ada knew this was a possibility.” It wasn’t a question, they both knew that.

“It did come up in discussion,” Dimity replied, keeping her tone nonchalant and even.

“And I suppose I am now drafted into sleeping in the woods as well,” HB sniffed, obviously unhappy with the idea.

“I suppose you are.” Dimity couldn’t resist the chance to add, “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to pop on back to Cackle’s and into your own nice warm bed.”

A huff of indignation was her reward. “And leave you alone with fourteen vulnerable young witches?”

It was a good thing they were invisible—HB couldn’t see Dimity’s smug smirk. After a beat, HB spoke again, “Besides, you said no magic.”

Dimity laughed. “Well, considering we’re using invisibility potion and a silence shield, I think we’re well past that rule.”

HB gave a hum of agreement. However, she stipulated, “That was _necessary_ magic.”

“Unlike that ridiculous cloud of smoke you appeared in this afternoon,” Dimity pointed out.

“I was hoping it would trigger your asthma.”

“I don’t have asthma.”

“ _Yet_.” Hecate hit the T with particular emphasis, the clicking sound holding a warning that Dimity knew (hoped) was only a joke.

There was a rustling sound, and Hecate felt a bump against her arm as Dimity spoke, “Here. I brought protein bars, just in case.”

“Protein…what?” Hecate fumbled in the nothingness until she found Dimity’s invisible hand, and the oddly wrapped item it was holding.

“A protein bar—sweet Morgan le Fay, how can you not know what a protein bar is?”

“Is it a sports thing?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess.”

“Then there’s you answer.” The disdain in HB’s tone was so heavy that Dimity felt as if she could actually see the woman’s nose curling up in response. However, there was the sound of a crinkling wrapper, so Dimity knew that she still was going to eat, regardless of how she felt about the bar.

“We’re about to lose a few of the girls,” HB predicted in a muffled tone. Dimity realized she was covering her mouth as she chewed, which seemed funny, considering no one could see her.

“Nah, they’ll all stick it out,” Dimity remained hopeful.

A fox barked, its hoarse cry echoing through the trees sounding particularly frightening to a bunch of young girls lost in the woods.

“I can’t do this,” announced Bella Blackwood, her eyes wide with terror.

“Told you,” HB murmured to Dimity.

“Me, either,” another girl took a step closer to Bella. “I don’t care if we fail the test, I’m not staying here with who knows what else lurking the woods.”

“You can’t transfer to Cackle’s,” Felicity warned them. “You don’t know how far it is—it could take more power than you’ve got, and then you could end up even more lost!”

The fox barked again, sounding even more like a scream than the last. The girls’ resolve shattered at the thought of being alone with that sound.

“Just help me with the fire,” Mildred returned to her task with gusto. “The sooner it’s going, the sooner we’ll be safe and warm again.”

It took a long time to start the fire—by the time it did, the darkness was so thick that they could barely see their own hands in front of their faces. The group erupted into cheers as the first wisps of smoke appeared, followed by the tiniest of flames.

Hecate had a muscle spasm in her arm. That was the only explanation for the sudden pump of her fist. Mildred Hubble couldn’t manage the simplest of spells, but at least she wouldn’t freeze to death.

“See?” Dimity’s voice was filled with delight. “They’re going to be just fine.”

That didn’t stop Hecate Hardbroom from casting alarm spells around the girls’ makeshift campsite, later on. If anyone left the site during the night, it would awaken Hecate—much like the spells she had cast around all of Cackle’s Academy to alert her of dangers and other unacceptable behaviors. She didn’t mention it to Dimity—this was necessary magic, to be sure, and even if Dimity had protested, she still would have done it.

The girls had scrounged up some berries, nuts, and a few strips of edible bark, which they all chewed on in silence. Hecate decided that in comparison, Drill’s weird protein bar wasn’t so bad.

Enid was able to organize another song, and everyone was is higher spirits by the time they decided to go to bed. Lots were drawn as to who took which shift in tending the fire, and the rest settled down in a circle, to get what little rest they could.

“We should get some sleep, too,” Dimity suggested.

“Where, exactly?” Hecate looked around at the forest floor.

“Here’s as good a place as any, I reckon.” She could hear Dimity shifting, sitting down on the ground.

Hecate suddenly felt awkward and at a loss. “I suppose…I shall sleep…over here.”

She moved slightly away from where she assumed Dimity was sitting, aware that the other witch’s “cone of silence” only extended so far. If she cast her own silence shield, she and Dimity wouldn’t be able to communicate.

Apparently Dimity was thinking the same thing, because she spoke up, “It makes more sense for us to just sleep together, Hecate.”

Thank every star in the heavens that they were invisible, because Hecate knew her face was beet red at the moment.

Dimity continued, “We’re sharing a cone of silence, and we don’t have a fire like the girls do. We need to stick together, for warmth.”

She had a point. Still, Hecate hesitated.

“HB? You still there?”

“Where else would I be?” She snapped. She took a step towards the sound of Dimity’s voice, reaching her hand out in the nothingness. “Hold out your hand, so I can find you.”

Dimity obviously obeyed, because it wasn’t long before her fingers found another hand in the darkness. Hecate gingerly lowered herself to the ground, giving a light sigh of relief—her feet were aching, after all the hiking and standing around watching the girls quibble.

However, sitting on the ground only made her aware of how cold it was.

“Well, this is going to be a unique form of hell,” Hecate muttered.

“Shouldn’t hell be warm?”

“That’s what makes this one unique.”

“Ah, gotcha.” There was a moment of shuffling, and Dimity’s invisible body jostled against Hecate’s. “Hang on.”

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off this robe.”

“What?!”

“Take a chill potion, HB. I’ve got a shirt on underneath. If I were trying to seduce you, I think I’d be a little more coy than that.”

“Hm, yes, I’m sure you’d just resort to doing push-ups,” Hecate intoned dryly, recalling the time the staff were all under the unfortunate effects of a love potion which pitted them against one another for Mr. Rowan-Webb’s affections.

“Right,” Dimity didn’t miss a beat. Hecate felt something warm and heavy drape around her shoulders—Dimity’s traveling cloak, which was now enveloping them both. “And you would just stalk around insulting me—oh wait, you already do that. Anything you want to confess, HB?”

There was a teasing note in her tone, and Hecate didn’t like it. She was too familiar with that tone—the same one the girls at school used to wear whenever they made remarks about her hair or her dress, or when they would smile with saccharine malice and ask how her best friend Pippa was. They always used that tone for the word _friend_ , and it had wormed its way into her head. Had turned her paranoid, convinced her that Pippa wasn’t really her friend, that she didn’t really want to be around her. That paranoia had run rampant for thirty years now.

“You are ridiculous,” Hecate replied, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t infuse the words with the right amount of coldness and venom, and instead, she just sounded sad. Great, exactly what Dimity needed to hear: her sounding like a vulnerable child.

Dimity definitely heard the change in HB’s tone—and she felt the slump of the woman’s shoulders, which moved the cloak ever so slightly. She realized that she’d crossed a line, without meaning to. It was just so easy to fall into a spat with Hecate, whose personal motto seemed to be _piss and vinegar_. Still, even when HB drove her absolutely batty, she’d never wished to hurt the woman.

“It was just a joke, Hecate,” Dimity said quietly.

“I know. That’s why I called you ridiculous. Because you were being ridiculous.”

Still, HB sounded a bit put off. Deciding that she didn’t really have much to lose, Dimity added, “Besides, it’s plain as day that you’re head over heels for Ada Cackle.”

Dimity prepared herself for the sounds of small heart attack, but none came. After a few beats of absolute silence, Hecate Hardbroom spoke.

“I could kill you now and invent a reason for your death tomorrow morning.”

Welp, that was as much confirmation as Dimity needed. Obviously, HB was not receptive to the idea of discussing it further, so she kept quiet.

However, HB surprised her. A few minutes later, she gently asked, “Is it that obvious?”

The fear and uncertainty in HB’s voice almost made Dimity want to hug her ( _almost_ ). She shook her head, “Nah, not at all. The only reason I know is because—”

She stopped herself, realizing that maybe HB would be embarrassed. However, the other woman’s voice prompted from the thin air, “Because?”

“Well, over the summer. When we hosted the solstice celebration at the Academy. Ada wasn’t feeling well and she retired early, remember?”

“Of course,” Hecate returned.

“She embraced each of us and wished us a happy solstice. And after she hugged you and turned to leave, you hand shot out, just for a second—I was the only one who saw it, but I knew what it meant. You wanted to reach out to her. To bring her back, to ask her to stay. With you.”

Hecate delicately cleared her throat. “And you…deduced all that from a simple hand movement?”

“Well, the way your face melts every time she walks in the room was a pretty good clue, too.”

“It does not!” Hecate sat up straight in indignation, inadvertently throwing off the cape.

“Oy, watch it—letting valuable heat escape here!” Dimity got her back under the cloak and gave her a small, reassuring pat on the shoulder. “And it absolutely does _so_ , you sentimental sod.”

HB groaned at the thought.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that noticeable—I only started noticing after solstice night. Then it was clear as day. I don’t think anyone else realizes…and even if they do, I don’t think they’d care.”

“I care.” HB’s voice was impossibly tiny. Dimity briefly wondered if she’d been magically replaced with a different witch. This time, she didn’t resist the impulse to scoop the invisible woman into a hug.

Hecate froze in horror when she realized what Dimity was doing. Had she really become so pathetic, that Drill was reduced to hugging her like she was a lost and crying child?

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Dimity assured her. “I’m actually rooting for you two.”

“Please don’t make me hate you any more than I currently do.”

That sent Dimity into peals of laughter. Hecate relaxed into the hug, only slightly. Then Dimity was moving back into her own personal space again, and things became more comfortable.

Dimity gathered up her courage to speak up again, “And…I don’t think you’re suffering from a case of unrequited love.”

“I don’t think I want to continue this conversation.” Hecate’s voice was flat and absolutely not open to refusal. Easily changing subject, she added, “I put alarm spells around the camp. And if there is an emergency…I can transport us all back to Cackle’s.”

“In one go?” Dimity’s voice was tinged with incredulity.

“Yes.” Hecate didn’t add that she’d been practicing it for years. After the girls had gone to bed, she’d placed slumber spells over them to ensure they remained oblivious as she practiced moving them from their rooms to the courtyard, eventually as far away as half a mile—a safe enough distance if there was ever a situation that needed to be escaped. She’d never told anyone else, too afraid of what might be said, how it might be twisted ( _that woman, enchanting girls and snatching them from their beds in the dead of night, what was she planning?_ ). Although she’d had the distinct feeling that Ada had always known, somehow, and that she’d never said anything, never taken away Hecate’s attempts to prepare for the worst and find comfort in knowing she was prepared.

“HB, that’s pretty amazing.” Dimity elbowed the potions mistress in a friendly fashion. “I knew you were powerful, but a stunt like that could put you in the Avalon Records.”

“I have no interest in becoming yet another trivia piece on a scroll of ridiculous wizarding feats,” HB returned haughtily.

“Of course not,” Dimity was unaffected by her tone. And she meant it—HB wasn’t the fame and glory type. And deep down, she was a soft little marshmallow who did truly care about the girls. Deep, deep, deeeeeep down.

The marshmallow in question was stifling a yawn, so Dimity quietly added, “We should get some sleep. The girls are safe, with your spells in place.”

“Right.” Hecate was immediately uncomfortable again.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” Ever one to charge headfirst into social awkwardness, Dimity stayed true to her reputation.

“How about spoons that don’t actually touch?” Hecate kept her voice flat, although she had no control over the blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Well, you’re no fun,” Dimity huffed in feigned irritation.

“Wait,” Hecate was shuffling under the cloak, and after a few seconds, she made a small noise of triumph. “We’ll use my cloak as a pillow, and yours as the blanket.”

“Look at you, being all crafty in a non-magical way,” Dimity teased, and she was thankful that Hecate didn’t bristle at the tone.

“If the girls can survive without magical intervention, surely we two should be able to make it through the night.” Hecate gave her rolled up cloak a satisfactory pat before lying down. She felt Dimity doing the same, and soon the cloak was rearranged to cover both of them again.

Dimity really, really tried not to make things awkward. For a full two minutes, she tried. But nobody’s perfect.

“My, my, the stories I'll get to tell, once we get back to Cackle’s: how I slept with Hecate Hardbroom.”

“Dead witches don’t tell tales.” HB reminded her. There was a tinge of amusement in her tone.

“Well I do hope you'll have nothing but satisfactory things to say about me,” Dimity continued in her glib air. HB made a sound that might have been a chuckle.

“So far, you've been a perfect gentleman.”

“Just lulling you into a false sense of security, HB.”

Another amused sound from HB, who was rolling onto her side.

“So is it still a no on the spooning?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do I at least get a lullaby?”

“Have you ever heard me sing?”

“Come to think of it, no, I don’t think I have.”

“There’s a reason for that. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Sweet dreams, HB.”

“Pleasant rest, Miss Drill.”

Dimity rolled onto her side as well, scooting over so that her back touched HB's. The other witch stiffened slightly, but soon relaxed again. The cloak kept them enveloped in warmth, and soon Dimity was fast asleep.

Hecate stayed awake just a little bit longer, turning over Dimity’s words in her mind.

_I don’t think you’re suffering from a case of unrequited love—what’s that supposed to mean?_ Was Dimity saying that she didn’t see Hecate as a pitiful sufferer (which she absolutely was _not_ )? Was she saying it wasn’t love, but something less…honorable? Hecate bristled at the thought. She never even thought about anything beyond taking Ada’s hand, perhaps kissing her—anything else was simply too much, too improbable, too heartbreaking in how deeply it would never come true. And she was so meticulous in marshalling her feelings, making sure Ada never knew, so she would never be made to feel uncomfortable with such unwanted affection.

Oh.

Oh, wait.

Did Dimity mean that Hecate’s feelings weren’t unrequited?

The thought made her stomach clench. She certainly couldn’t ask for clarification, because she’s rather be skinned alive than open that can of worms again. She’d already considered dousing Drill with some forgetting powder once they returned, although deep down she knew it would be too problematic.

As if this situation could have gotten any worse.

Hecate rose to her feet, not caring that she’d left the cone of silence as she made her way around the circle of sleeping girls. Of course, Mildred Hubble had volunteered for first fire-watching shift, and she was already fast asleep, propped up against a tree, mouth open and innocent face completely free of worry.

Hecate was really going to have to see a physician about this heart murmur that had apparently developed. She crouched down, gently pulling the edges of Mildred’s traveling cloak over her legs again for warmth. With a quick flick of her fingers, she gave the fire a little more fuel, so that it wouldn’t be burned out completely in a few hours whenever Mildred woke again.

She finished her lap around the girls, making sure everyone was as warmly covered as possible before retiring back to her own makeshift bed beside Dimity. With the determination born from years of practice, she set all thought of Ada Cackle from her mind and willed herself to sleep.

 


	3. Possible

Upon waking, Dimity Drill registered three distinct sensations.

The first thing to register was something cold on her neck. It was the tip of HB’s rather impressive nose, which was droning on like an adorably pissed off bumblebee.

The second sensation was the massive amount of warmth enveloping Dimity’s body, with HB’s limbs tangled around her. HB was _toasty_. And… _soft_. Two very pleasant surprises.

The third realization was that she definitely had hair in her mouth. She quickly remedied that situation, but decided the other two predicaments were quite nice, actually. Somehow, Dimity’s arm was under HB’s neck, and the potions mistress’ face was buried in Dimity’s shoulder, her arm wrapped around her midsection in a snug embrace. Dimity couldn’t help but grin as she imagined HB’s reaction upon waking to find them in such a position, and how the austere woman would scramble to recover her usual distance and iciness.

_Just like a cat_ , she surmised with a smirk. _Except she didn’t attack my feet at two o’clock in the morning…at least I don’t think she did. I did sleep rather soundly though, so…_

HB made a small snuffling sound, burying her face deeper into Dimity’s neck. Dimity gave her a small squeeze of reassurance, and with a soft, happy sigh, HB drifted back into deeper sleep.

Dimity decided to spare HB the humiliation of waking up in such a compromising position (to be honest, she was still mildly concerned that the multiple death threats for the night before might not have been entirely in jest). So she carefully disengaged from the embrace, sitting up slowly and gently lowering the sleeping potions mistress back to the ground. Knowing HB, she probably stayed up most of the night, worrying over the girls. Not that she’d ever admit it.

HB’s hair was completely disheveled, and her face was uncharacteristically peaceful. The sun had not yet risen, but the sickly grey light filtered through the trees, coating everything in silver and turning HB’s contrasting features into a black and white photograph. Dimity’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. One day, Ada Cackle was going to be a very lucky lady.

If those two could ever get their heads out of their cauldrons long enough to realize how madly in love they were with each other. She’d been gracious to Hecate the night before, lying to say that no one else noticed—but she’d been utterly truthful when she’d said that no one would care. Hell, the two witches already carried on like an old married couple, so really nothing would change.

Except maybe HB would be happier. And happy people were generally more bearable.

Dimity bit her lip. Was she willing to risk life and limb, just to possibly hook up a couple of lovesick idiots?

She decided the answer was yes. If HB did end up killing her, at least she’d get some fun out of it beforehand.

* * *

 

By the time the sun rose, the third year girls were all fully awake and ready to move forward. Bella Blackwood had the brilliant idea to shimmy up a tree and see if she could spot the castle—which she did, less than a mile away. She shouted the news down to the rest of the class, who were on the ground. There was a round of cheers at the announcement.

Drill was out of invisibility potion, so Hecate simply cast a spell to keep them invisible—a little more taxing, but with the girls being so close to the Academy, she didn’t worry about not having enough power to protect them from anything else that may befall them.

The girls trudged forward, talking amongst themselves.

“I can’t believe Miss Cackle would ever agree to let us traipse around the countryside without any kind of escort,” Ethel Hallow huffed. “Just _wait_ until I tell my mother.”

Drill and HB gave growls of irritation and disapproval at the pronouncement. Mrs. Hallow wasn’t exactly a fan favorite among the staff, and her daughter was constantly proving to be her mother’s child.

“But we’re third year witches,” Felicity pointed out, a tinge of pride in her voice. “And look, we didn’t need any supervision—we’re doing this, all on our own.”

“Without _any_ magic!” Jean Wand added with a slight giggle (most likely going delirious from lack of proper nutrition and rest, Hecate guessed).

“We certainly couldn’t have done this without Millie,” Enid spoke loudly to be heard over the rest of the girls’ comments. She flashed her best friend a proud smile. “Even HB would be impressed.”

Hecate made a small noise that could either be interpreted as reluctant agreement or dry doubtfulness—Dimity chose to think that she was agreeing with the statement, even if it killed her to admit thinking of Mildred Hubble in any kind of positive light, no matter how slight.

The girls headed in the general direction of the Academy, occasionally stopping to let someone climb a tree and check their course. Dimity and Hecate followed at a slight distance, sharing a silence that wasn’t entirely awkward but wasn’t exactly comfortable, either. Both were still keenly aware that the other remembered the conversation from the night before, and its implications.

There was a round of delighted and exhausted cheers when the high walls of Cackle’s Academy came into view. As if on cue, a pink clad figure appeared at the entrance.

Hecate really wished she could blame the leap in her chest from this apparently-new heart murmur she’d developed over the past twenty-four hours, but she knew that wasn’t the cause. It leaped this way, like an eager puppy on its first lead, every time she was greeted with sight before her. _Ada_.

The feeling of home surged and sang through her veins.

Once they got closer, she saw the flicker of concern across Ada’s warm expression. Of course—she and Drill were still invisible, and the girls seemed completely unescorted.

With an easy flick of her wrist, Hecate removed the spells surrounding her and the flying instructor. Enid Nightshade, who was lagging behind the others, was the first to notice them. She jumped in surprise, “Miss Drill! HB! Where you here the whole time?”

Her words stopped the rest of the group, who turned back to them with wide eyes.

Ethel Hallow looked particularly chagrined, and Hecate took a full beat to make eye contact with the younger witch. _Regretting a few things we said along the way, Miss Hallow?_

“Of course we were,” Dimity Drill returned with a jovial tone. “Didja really think we’d just abandoned you in the wild?”

“Rhetorical question,” Hecate interjected, slipping into her icy role with familiar ease. With an arch of a brow, she cast a wide glance around the group of young faces, “Since we were with you the whole time, and did hear _everything_.”

“The object wasn’t really about pathfinding,” Drill admitted. “It was about surviving, without magic. Heavens forbid, one day you might find yourself in a situation where you cannot rely on your magic, and you need to be able to make it back to safety.”

“A feat that seems highly impossible for most of you,” HB drawled. Her dark eyes flicked to Mildred, and with a slight sigh, she confessed, “You could all learn a thing or two from Miss Hubble, it seems.”

Mildred’s face was glowing as if she’d been commended by the Great Wizard himself. Hecate’s heart murmur was really becoming a problem.

“So…did we pass?” Felicity Foxglove piped up, her voice lilting with hopefulness.

“Well, the objective was to survive,” Drill motioned to the group. “So I’d say you all passed!”

There was another round of cheers.

“But we’ll see if you’re all this lucky next time.”

The cheers turned to groans.

Hecate transferred to Ada’s side. Ada ducked her head slightly, turning towards her deputy, who was now slightly behind her. “Well met, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Well met, Miss Cackle.” Hecate gave a slight incline of her head in an attempt to hide her smile.

“I am sorry for not giving you the full details—”

“It wouldn’t have changed my involvement,” Hecate informed her softly. “I would have gone, either way.”

The rest is unspoken. _I would have gone, for the girls, for you. Anything for you, I love you, I love you, I love you._ Hecate was sure that Ada would pick up on the former part of the unsaid, and prayed she’d never discover the latter. The thought of putting Ada in such a position, where she had to deal with the unwanted affection of her gangly and awkward deputy, whom she was supposed to be able to trust above all others, was untenable.

_Unless_ …no, no thinking about what Drill had said.

“Girls,” she raised her voice to be heard over the din. They turned to her with expectant faces. With a tilt of her head, she motioned towards the great hall. “Tardiness at mealtimes is highly frowned upon.”

The thought of a proper breakfast filled with girls with joy as they hurried across the courtyard. Despite her aching feet, Hecate chose to walk beside Ada, rather than immediately transferring to the great hall. It was comforting, being back here, immediately in-sync with her again.

Dimity Drill was walking behind them, fighting back a smile as she watched the two older women dip their heads together, exchanging quiet words. HB said something that cracked a grin across Ada’s face. At the sight of the headmistress’ smile, HB’s own countenance softened.

Yep. Smitten kitten, thy name is Hecate Hardbroom. With a curt nod of self-agreement, Dimity decided that it was time that someone stepped up and helped these two lost souls see the light.

Oh, this was going to be a scream.

**Author's Note:**

> All student names are taken from TWW Wiki.


End file.
